Winter
by Currer.B
Summary: "It's what we do. Helping each other." Washington D.C, 2019: After the Avengers saved the world, Bucky has to face the past in court and his best defense is the story of a woman, who was raised and taught by HYDRA - the only person who helped him. Struggling with old demons and new threats, both of them remember what happened and soon they'll have to make irreversible decisions.


_Hey guys,_

 _Welcome to my story about Caps's best friend and one of my favourite Marvel heroes. Warnings first: This story is taking place after Thanos tried to get the Infinity stones and enslave the universe and he lost – obviously. Bucky now has to face justice for the murders of his HYDRA past._

 _Second and more important warning: English isn't my native language and as much as I try to write properly, I can't give you any guarantee there are no mistakes, may they be grammatical or spelling mistakes. I'll not be mad at anyone who corrects me but rather thankful._

 _And now, have fun with the story and I hope to hear from you,_

 _Greetings 3_

 _Currer_

* * *

 **Washington D.C., 2019**

 **Olivia POV**

"Miss Morrison, do you think Mr. James Buchanan Barnes, better known as the Winter Soldier, that this man, despite his crimes, which far exceed what ordinary people can imagine, should be freed? "

She had feared the questions of the public prosecutor's office most. Week after week, she had watched on the television how the leading prosecutor's spread the files before the eyes of the world, had to hear one name after another, some of them _he_ had once told her, others known to her only through the process. Seventy years of murder, manslaughter, and crimes had been analyzed and proffered, and with every name, with every mourning family in the hall, whose weary faces flickered across the screens, the prosecution seemed to be gaining security. They had a brilliant spokesman, one had to give them that: the prosecutor was like a general who had been perfectly prepared for a battle and he fired a rhetorical glow after another.

She swallowed dryly and looked into his tanned, angular face with the pinched wrinkles around his mouth and the grey, sparkling eyes. He was only around forty years old, and in the relevant TV shows, the Botox-loving moderators were enthusiastic about his good looks, the meteoric rise and the impeccable family life with two daughters and a strikingly beautiful wife, also a lawyer.

They didn't seem to care that this man was involved in one of the most difficult and controversial legal cases in the American judicial history. They didn't seem to care that in front of the court building, protesters camped, split into two sides, who regularly abused each other and had started a brawl only a few days ago when Tony Stark had made his statement.

"Do you think that America can take responsibility for freeing this man?"

"No. I think he should pay for his crimes for the rest of his life. "

Stark had been in her apartment before, the last one in the world she'd ever reckoned with. They never had much to say to each other. He mistrusted her because she was who she was, and she mistrusted him because she could not forget the last remnant of what once had been teached to her.

"I know what you think about Barnes. But I cannot say in court that I think it is safe to free him, if I do not believe it. I will never believe it. "

"Not even after all what happened?"

"Never. I hope you understand that."

"You will tell the court your truth and I will tell them mine. That's the purpose of the whole matter, isn't it? "

The costume, which she had squeezed in for the occasion, stretched uncomfortably at the back and under the armpits. She avoided sliding around on the chair, which would have shown how nervous she was, and she had sworn to be strong. Therefore, she could not turn her head and look at _him_ , behind the bulletproof glass, as he sat so calmly between the four Marines, hiding the artificial arm under the suit, which he wore since he lost the metal arm and still forced into a specially designed device, so he could not be a threat to anyone. As if he wanted to be. She could not look at him or she would be lost. And she could not do that to either of them.

"Miss Morrison?" She looked surprised at the prosecutor. He waited a few yards before her, with a lingering expression on his face. Had she been silent a long time? In the corner of her eye she perceived a movement.

"Do you think that this man should be released from all crimes against him?" She looked at her left hand, at the long, bulging scar. When she thought of what was behind it, she shrank and lifted her head.

"Yes." Her voice was loud and clear, not a breath of shiver. In the hall behind her she could have heard a pin fall. "That is my opinion."


End file.
